


The Bet

by lavieenbelle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Head Boy, Head Boy Draco Malfoy, Head Girl, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, One Shot, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:48:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29314344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavieenbelle/pseuds/lavieenbelle
Summary: ❝all he wanted was all she wasand all she had.and tonight, he had all of her.❞
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	The Bet

_Year 7. Draco & Hermione are Heads and have been dating for five months. _

"Will you stop kicking me?" Draco asked, feigning irritation. "I'm trying to write an essay." Truthfully, he was basking in her attention. It was the only reason he came to the library anymore.

"We're going to miss dinner," Hermione said, dragging her sock-clad foot up his calf.

Draco cleared his throat. "We're in the library, Granger," he chastised her with a smirk. He glanced at Madam Pince, who was too busy scolding another pair of students to bother Draco and Hermione. "Besides, you're the one who's always telling me to study harder for our N.E.W.T.S."

"I'm sure your essay is brilliant." Hermione leaned over the table and placed a soft kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, she glanced down at the piece of parchment that lay between them. She frowned. "Except that Centaurs aren't native to the United Kingdom."

"Yes, they are." Draco pulled the parchment back to him. His dark lashes fanned over his milky skin. "I specifically remember Hagrid saying so in class."

"Trust me, they aren't. We can check the textbook if you want," she said, gesturing towards the stack of books on the table beside them.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek before looking up at her. Hermione thought her heart would crack her ribs from how fast it was beating at the sight of those grey eyes. They'd been seeing each other for months now, and she still wasn't used to the idea that he was all hers.

"What do I get if I'm right?" he asked. He leaned back and crossed his arms, an infuriating, smug smile on his face.

"The satisfaction of knowing you paid attention in class for once." Hermione was already flipping through the book, searching for the chapter on Centaurs.

He caught her wrist. She stopped her search.

"I want to try..." he glanced around and lowered his voice, giving her a meaningful stare. "That _thing_ we've been talking about."

Hermione's face flushed crimson. She leaned in. "You can't coerce me into giving consent."

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not forcing you to do anything, but you did say you would try it. It might make things more interesting."

She pursed her lips and clenched her fists, conflicted. On principle, she hated the idea; it was humiliating. In reality, the more she thought about the possibilities, the more the fire grew in her lower abdomen. She'd need to change her underpants soon. "Fine." She exhaled and squared her shoulders. "What do I get if I'm right?"

"Anything you want, babe." _Because it doesn't matter. You're wrong,_ he thought.

She sat up straighter and ran a hand through her unruly curls. "Dinner at Madam Puddifoots tomorrow." Draco nearly gagged choking down his laugh. As if he'd ever step foot into that horrific establishment.

"Deal."

She held out her hand. He wrapped his cool fingers around hers and shook it, a wicked, flirtatious smirk playing across his lips.

She smoothed the pages of the thick tome and read aloud. "Centaurs are native to Australia, South America, and parts of Eastern Europe," she read.

Draco rested his elbows on the wooden table and propped his chin in his hands. He had taken scrupulous notes on this chapter; he practically had it memorized. "Keep reading."

"More recently..." Hermione trailed off. Her face fell into a scowl.

"What does it say?" Draco said, unable to keep his shameless triumph from seeping into his tone.

She let out a bitter sigh. "More recently, researchers have discovered that some species of Centaurs originated from around Dublin."

"In Dublin, Ireland! How about that?" Draco rolled up his parchment and stood. He placed a kiss to the top of Hermione's head, laughing at her childish glare. "My room. Twenty minutes."

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Hermione became more and more beautiful every time he saw her.

It was the first thought he had when he entered his bedroom and saw her sitting on his bed, still dressed in her school uniform, wringing her hands. Her face and her body, though also beautiful, was the same as always, and though it was a part of her, it wasn't all of her. Her mind and her heart were the parts of her that he was still learning; that was what made Hermione Hermione.

All he wanted was all she was and all she had. And tonight, he had all of her.

"Take off your clothes," he demanded, voice husky.

She stood, slowly, and began by loosening her tie.

"Give it to me," he said. She handed the red and gold piece of silk and then unbuttoned her shirt, fumbling with the buttons. "Slower."

Hermione smiled. With more confidence, she pulled her shoulders back and pushed her breasts out. Draco felt his pants tighten. He pulled at his own tie as her white shirt fell to the floor, leaving her in her bra.

She dragged her tongue across her lips as her hips wiggled. She shimmied out of her skirt and left it in a pile with her top.

Draco let his eyes wander from her exposed thighs, over her bare stomach, to the robust curve of her breasts. He dropped his shirt on top of hers. "Kneel."

Hermione sucked in a deep breath before dropping to her knees. Draco didn't miss the way her breasts swelled as she inhaled. He took a slow, deliberate step towards her before gripping her chin and forcing her to look in his eyes. "When I give you an order," he whispered, "I expect you to respond. Do you understand?"

She nodded as she visibly swallowed. Draco cocked an expectant eyebrow. Hermione's eyes widened. "Yes, I understand."

He licked his lips. "Yes, _sir_ ," he corrected.

Hermione's cheeks were tinged pink. "Yes, sir," she muttered. Her discomfort was amusing, but the sight of her, on her knees, completely at his mercy, was exquisite. He was the luckiest man in Hogwarts.

"Good girl." He crouched beside her and pressed his mouth against hers.

She was all too eager to respond, slipping her tongue into his mouth and lifting her hands to his face. He broke away. "Touchy, aren't we Granger?"

She curled her fingers into fists and pulled them to her chest. Gently, he pulled her wrists behind her, crossing them in the small of her back. "Stay. Or I'll tie them back there."

She craned her neck to look at him standing behind her. "Head forward. Eyes down," he snapped. Her shoulders tensed as she obeyed.

Draco hardened. He needed to get these pants off.

He cleared his throat, prompting her.

"Yes, sir," she stammered, the words flooding out of her mouth. "I'm sorry, sir."

He ran his hand down the length of her tie. He could think of a thousand and one uses for it. The thought of restraining her arms behind her excited him, but then he thought of all the nights before this one: those hands had made him feel ecstasy more than once. It would be a crime to deprive her of using them now, and either way, Hermione was a stickler for rules. She wouldn't move her arms unless he gave her permission. He could blindfold her, but that would do more for her than for him, and selfish as it may have been, he'd won their wager. He was going to use his winnings to pleasure himself. Besides, he wanted to see those innocent doe eyes as she submitted to him.

He could gag her, as punishment for failing to address him properly. The image rose to the forefront his mind: Hermione kneeling, eyes downcast, hands behind her, drooling over that bloody Gryffindor tie. The thought made his cock twitch.

He wrapped the tie around her face, knotting it tightly at the back of her head. "Is that okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Not too tight?" She shook her head.

He kissed the base of her throat from behind. "Touch my shoulder if you want me to stop," he whispered against her skin. Hermione clenched her fists, forcing herself to refrain from touching him. He could practically feel her heart pulsating in her chest as he peppered kisses across her chest. "You're so perfect," he mused.

It was absurd, he thought, as he took a step back, taking in her appearance. She was kneeling before him, completely unaware that he was the one who utterly worshipped her. As beautiful as the sight was, he couldn't stand another second of it.

He stripped his pants off.

"Stand up," he growled, pulling her to her feet and pushing her against the bed. She lay on her back with her legs dangling off the edge. He knelt between her legs and traced his way up the inside of her thighs, leaving bite marks and kisses as he moved. When he reached the top, Hermione moaned through the gag. Draco's cock shot up.

"Fuck this," he said, pulling the tie out of her mouth and tossing it against the wall. "Kiss me."

Hermione giggled and cupped his face with her hands. "Yes, sir." A shiver ran down the length of Draco's crotch. He tugged her lacy panties off of her legs and plunged two fingers into her pulsing wetness. Hermione gasped, arching her neck as he massaged her clit. Her fingers curled around Draco's silk sheets.

He'd been nervous when he started having feelings for Hermione, consider she was best friends with Potter and Weasley. The thought that she might have discussed intimate details of their sex life with two of his greatest rivals was intolerable. 

Moreso, she didn't have much experience in that department. But she responded so beautifully to him. It almost seemed intuitive. Together, they made magic. He didn't think he could ever have another. 

"I love you," he said. Then he immediately remembered the position they were in. "Shit," he muttered, removing his fingers from her. "I'm sorry. That wasn't very romantic, but I thought it and now I can't stop thinking about it."

Hermione dove forward and crashed her lips against his. "I love you," she whispered back against his lips. He rose to his feet and met her on the bed. "God, I want you. Fuck me, Draco. Hard." 

"Manners, baby," he teased as he unhooked her bra. He'd planned on making her beg for it, but as it were, he was just as impatient as she was. As far as Draco was concerned, there would be plenty of time for games and begging and teasing in the months and years to come. 

"Please?" she asked. Draco couldn't control himself. He surged forward, pushing her down against the soft mattress and thrust into her. She let out another moan as he kissed her mouth, biting her bottom lip. She bucked her hips and thrust her tongue into his mouth. 

Inside of her, with their legs tangled together in the sheets, Draco couldn't tell where he ended and she began. They were one. They were infinite. 

But the moment was definite. Hermione released in a shower of euphoria and serendipity, and Draco followed soon after. 

He pulled out of her and rested his head on her bare chest, listening to the steady, melodious sound of her breathing. She knotted her fingers in his hair and pressed her lips to the crown of his head. "You blow my mind," she said. 

He caught her hand and intertwined their fingers, before bringing them to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "Do you want to go to Madam Puddifoot's tomorrow night?" he asked, as a gesture of good faith. 

"I'd love to," she said. Hermione, of course, had known they would be going to Madam Puddifoot's since they made the bet. "By the way," she said, shifting so she was kneeling, straddling Draco's hips. "You should still fix your essay." Draco frowned. "Dublin is in the Republic of Ireland, not Northern Ireland, and as of 1922, the Republic of Ireland is not part of the United Kingdom." She kissed the tip of his nose and slipped back underneath the covers to get some sleep before their romantic dinner.


End file.
